


Angels On Our Right and On Our Left

by Esgalnen



Series: Angels of U.N.C.L.E. [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Angelic Healing, Angels, Gen, Guardian Angels, Healing, M/M, Near Death/Death Fic, Other, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 09:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14998058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esgalnen/pseuds/Esgalnen
Summary: Illya is badly injured on retreating from a THRUSH satrap but supernatural forces step in to save his life.  This story was inspired by the Strange, scary stories and the Man from U.N.C.L.E. series (all of which I think are fantastic!)  But I am biased!





	Angels On Our Right and On Our Left

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kush Mout](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433583) by [mrua7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7). 



Angels On Our Right and On Our Left

 

  

 

  _Two men stumbled from a building in the middle of the forest; behind them, something mostly concealed by leaf mould and tree roots exploded, smoke billowing out behind them. The dark-haired one leaned his hand against a tree, coughing to expel the remnants of his partner’s smoke bomb from his lungs. He turned his head towards his friend, all flashing eyes and bared teeth and was shocked when Illya returned his grin and then dropped like a stone._

 

“What the-” forgetting his own exhaustion, Napoleon ran across to his friend and knelt beside the supine body. “Oh Jesus,” he muttered, Illya’s hand was covered in blood and Napoleon swallowed hard.

Illya’s eyes flickered and opened, he managed a wry smile at his friend, “A THRUSH guard caught me as we were leaving,” he swallowed again and fighting back tears, Napoleon knelt beside his friend, gently lifting him so that he was resting against his chest.

“I’m sorry to leave you like this, Napoleon,” Illya rasped, he reached up a blood-covered hand to grasp his partner’s. Napoleon nodded tightly, taking his friend’s hand, ignoring the scarlet covered fingers. “It’s all right, moy droog. We’ll get you to hospital.”

“No-no time.” Illya gasped, “I’m glad you’re here with me at the last, Napoleon.”

Napoleon racked his brains trying to think of some words of comfort, “Go forth, Christian Soul,from this world in the name of God the Almighty Father, who created you; in the name of Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, who suffered for you, in the name of the Holy Spirit, who was poured out upon you-” Napoleon’s voice cracked.

“Saying prayers for me, Napoleon?” He managed a twisted smile, “I wouldn’t bother. I’m an atheist.”

“ _Illya_ ,” Napoleon ground out, “please?”

His friend’s stilled against him, and Napoleon thought it was the end, and then his eyes snapped open, “Napoleon, I see Angels-”

 

  

Napoleon looked up startled, “Perhaps they’re here to take you to Heaven,” he said, trying to keep the grief from his voice. He personally didn’t see them, not at first, and then he saw the bright shining wings and had to swallow hard again.

“Or to Hell,” Illya muttered.

“No,” Napoleon replied finding a strength that he didn’t know was possible, “they’d have black wings if they were taking you to Hell.” There was a sudden _whooshing_ sound and then the three Beings were kneeling next to them.

“Can you help him?” Napoleon asked, looking up into faces of such serene beauty he was rendered speechless.

“And what if the Price for his health is that you must die?” One of the Creatures asked gently.

“Then that is the Price,” Napoleon replied firmly. He looked down at his friend, Illya’s eyes were closed, and again he had to fight back furious tears at his friend’s demise. Still holding Illya’s hand he looked up at the three Beings. “I will pay any Price.”

_You are quite right Armaita,_ Napoleon was sure he’d heard it, for the rest of the his life he would be sure that he’d heard it, but the words seem to drop into his head. _This pair are a rare breed._

**_All of UNCLE qualify,_** the reply was gentle, although Napoleon could hear the power in the voice. Closing his eyes, Napoleon bent to kiss his partner’s forehead, Illya’s skin felt cool and Napoleon realised that his friend was dying, if not already dead. A strong warm hand touched his arm, “Be not afraid. All shall be well; and all shall be well – and all manner of things shall be well.”

“Julian of Norwich,” Napoleon said, managing to dredge a smile from somewhere.

“Yes,” the other Angel replied, “but the message applies. My Lord,” she turned to look at the angel at Kuryakin’s feet and Napoleon was sure that some message passed between them. Then, any thought of a wisecrack vanished as all three unfurled huge, shining wings. Armaita laid a soft hand on his arm, “Close your eyes, Mr Solo.”

Something in this Creature’s eyes made all doubt varnish, and Napoleon obeyed. He was never sure afterwards what happened next, except that he was aware of Armaita’s hand on his arm and a sudden blazing light that seemed to rob him of all cognizance. The last thing he remembered was feeling strong arms around him and the gentle press of lips against his own and a soft voice that said, “Take care of yourselves, Gentlemen. Farewell.”

He woke slowly, he was lying under the trees at the edge of the forest. Slowly he turned his head to see Illya Kuryakin lying next to him. Memory returned in a rush and automatically he was on his hands and knees examining his partner. To his shock and surprise there was no evidence of the bullet wound, just a pale pink scar. Sitting back on his heels, Napoleon stared in disbelief.

“What _are_ you doing?” Illya’s eyes were open and he was staring up at his partner, “Ty s uma soshel?”  _Are you nuts?_

“I thought you’d been shot!” Napoleon exploded.

Illya frowned, “Shot?” He frowned up at his partner and then his face paled, “Napoleon, I was dying! What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know, moy droog, but I think that someone up there likes us.”

Illya got to his feet brushing earth off his trousers as he did so, “I seem to remember telling you that I was an Atheist – I don’t believe in God.”

“Perhaps He believes in you.” Napoleon replied, “now let’s go find ourselves some transport.”

_On the edge of the forest, just inside the tree line, an unseen figure watched the two men walk away. “He most certainly does, Gentlemen. He most certainly does.”_ _It murmured softly before vanishing into the mist._

**FIN**  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Man from UNCLE I have just taken the characters out of their box to play with for a while.


End file.
